


In This Together

by Topaz_Eyes



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Angst, Comfort Sex, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Minor Character Death, Plot What Plot, Porn Battle, Prompt Fic, Remixed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-31
Updated: 2008-07-31
Packaged: 2017-10-04 06:50:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Topaz_Eyes/pseuds/Topaz_Eyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They have something in common.  Set post "Wilson's Heart."</p>
            </blockquote>





	In This Together

**Author's Note:**

> This is the full-length version of the story written for Porn Battle VI hosted at [](http://oxoniensis.livejournal.com/profile)[**oxoniensis**](http://oxoniensis.livejournal.com/). The prompts were "grief" and "unexpected." The short version is [here](http://oxoniensis.livejournal.com/363932.html?view=18481052#t18481052).

Wilson looked up half-heartedly at the knock on his door, to see Cameron silhouetted in the half-light from the hall.

"I have the patient file you requested from the ER," she said, waving a blue folder.

He sighed and pinched his forehead. Right. He'd forgotten that. It was late, he was tired, and he didn't want to be interrupted, even though all he was doing was ruminating. He simply nodded at his desk. "Put it there. I'll look at it later." He bent his head again, knowing he'd been brusque, but not caring.

She set the file down, but to his annoyance, she didn't leave right away as he'd hoped. Instead, she frowned, regarding him for a long minute, and folded her arms across her chest.

"Wilson? Are you all right?"

Obvious question, because he was sitting in the dark with only one lamp on behind him, but he refused to reply. He stared past her, at the patio door and the grey evening outside, at the driving rain obscuring the lights from the parking lot.

Two months. It had been two months since Amber had died and been buried. He wanted a lot of things, though not Cameron's tea and sympathy. What he wanted--was gone in one fell swoop. What he wanted, wasn't coming back, and he didn't think anyone, least of all Cameron, could provide what he needed right now.

She wasn't deterred. She crossed the room and locked the door, then strode back, assuming her former position, and obviously waiting for an answer.

Wilson turned from the window and rose to face her, suddenly irritated. "You should leave," he said, his throat tight. "I don't have time for pity--" He stopped, fearing the sudden sting in his eyes.

"It's not pity," she said quietly, and shook her head. "I've been there. I know how it feels. The anger, the sadness--the overwhelming loneliness."

Wilson glanced away, wincing at the direct hit.

"I'm your friend. Let me help."

He gave her a watery smile. "I think it's a little late for that."

"No." She reached across the desk and grabbed his hand, pulling him around until he was in front of her. "I'm here."

She put her arms around him and embraced him. He stood still and tense at first, wondering if Cameron was expecting him to cry on her shoulder, but she didn't try to pull his head down or anything like that. But he did miss having someone real and solid to hold and it was that thought he used to justify letting Cameron hug him. His arms crept around her of their own accord, and he soon relaxed.

The rain wasn't letting up; it sluiced down the window and pattered steadily on the balcony rail. They stood a few more minutes, Cameron resting her head on his chest. He didn't feel better, exactly, but something in him eased, and he felt grateful to her for that, at least.

Cameron shifted to look up at him and he nodded down at her. "Thanks," he murmured.

She stretched up, cupping his jaw; Wilson thought she was going to peck his cheek and he leaned down accordingly. But his eyes widened in shock when her fingers threaded through his hair and she planted a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

"Cameron?" He blinked, tensing. "What are you--"

She drew him down until their foreheads touched. "Sshh," she whispered against his mouth. "It's okay."

She nuzzled him, brushing her lips across his cheek before pressing another firm kiss on the opposite corner. In his surprise, without meaning to, he turned his head to meet her and flicked his tongue over her coffee-flavored lips. Her mouth, now soft and pliant, opened to allow him in and they kissed, slowly at first. _God_ he'd missed holding someone, anyone in his arms like this, he missed the touch of lips on skin when he kissed--

Cameron's moan startled him back to reality and he pulled away, his breath hitching.

"I--I don't think we should do this," Wilson said shakily. "House--Chase--"

"I know," she replied as she drew him back down.

They kissed again, harder and deeper; Wilson twined his hand through her hair, faint odors of ER disinfectant and citrus shampoo mingling around them. Cameron slid her hands up and down his arms and back as he pulled her closer against him; the soft swells of her breasts pressed through layers of clothing. When she rocked subtly against his groin, he groaned into her mouth with sudden need.

Cameron peeled off her pink scrub top, revealing a peach-colored bra. Wilson unhooked it reverently, cupping her breasts as she unfastened his shirt buttons. He quivered when her fingernails raked his skin, when she tongued down his chest and up again to claim another crushing kiss.

He took each breast into his mouth, sucking and teasing the nipples into erect pink buds, and slid his hand beneath the waist of her scrub pants. She gasped, clutching his head and parting her legs, allowing him to dip down and brush her clit. She was already wet and eager, rubbing against his fingers and whimpering, and he moaned when she kneaded his too-tight trousers. He rocked against her hand, and thanked God that Cameron had remembered to lock the door as she undid his fly and reached in to grasp his already hard cock.

He lowered her onto the couch, pulled her scrub pants and panties off, and stood there admiring her laid out before him as he took off his pants and underwear. She was not Amber--she was too slender in his arms, she was less stubborn and more yielding--but she was real, she was here, and he wanted this, her body that was trembling with anticipation, the desire in her eyes as they widened at the sight of his straining cock. He ached with need when she licked her lips and spread her legs for him. It had been too damn long--

He mounted her, teasing her clit with the tip of his cock; reveling in her squirming as he nibbled down her throat and over her collarbone. Cameron gripped his ass as she guided him balls-deep into her--her hair fanned out over the cushions, the heat of their sweat-slick skin rising around them, her soft curves arching against him--her muscles clenching, meeting his rhythm as he pumped into her, each soft cry in his ear winding him tighter like a spring. He sank into her, buried his face in her shoulder and inhaled her scent, hers yet not hers, his mind lost in a swirl of heat and lust and yearning. Cameron, Amber, both and neither--where did the one end and the other begin? But did it even matter now, he was so close and she was gasping in time with his thrusts, and it was what it was. He wriggled one hand between them and rubbed her, and she shuddered and came in great rolling waves, her gasps muffled in his hair. And that was it for him, his balls drew up, his tension peaked, and he groaned into her neck with his release.

They lay in each other's arms, panting and trembling as they came down; both silent, Wilson fearing that a word would break this bond between them. She moved slightly beneath him a few minutes later. He rose on his elbows, gazing on her flushed cheeks, her kiss-bruised mouth, and pressed his lips gently on her forehead.

"Thank you," he whispered against her skin. She nodded and stroked his cheek.

A pager beeped, startling them both from a sated half-slumber. "That's mine," Cameron said quietly. "I have to go back to the ER."

Wilson could only nod numbly in response. He climbed off, pulling his pants up, buttoning his shirt. She rose and dressed, tying her hair into a disheveled knot as he retrieved his shirt.

At the door, she turned and looked at him evenly. "My husband died eleven years ago today," she said. "It gets better, with time. But it's always there." With that she smiled sadly and disappeared, leaving Wilson alone and thoughtful, staring out at the rain.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [In Need of a Friend (The Smoky Blues Remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/384393) by [Highlander_II](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Highlander_II/pseuds/Highlander_II)




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